It was laughable how easily Glanni coerced Ithro into a complete and total makeover, and he had a feeling that it had something to do with how he was under the impression this was his attempt at establishing a stronger bond. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but at any superficial rate, it’d be fun to see the elf all done up.
That was, if he could actually keep still for more than a minute at a time.
“The better you cooperate, the faster it’ll be over,” Glanni scolded, squinting as he held the other man’s jaw in one hand, and a mascara brush in the other. Truthfully, he was a beautiful subject, like a model one might see designers practice on, or even be their final product, but that was besides the point.
“Sorry, but it’s not like I’ve ever done this before!” Despite having been chastised throughout the entire process by an easily frustrated Glanni Glæpur, Ithro’s grin never faltered. He wanted to believe that things were becoming more steady between them and that he would no longer be considered a tentative choice in Glanni’s times of emotional instability. Maybe Ithro could go so far as to hope to be a permanent asset, but,
"Fucking hell, just let me finish this one eye, okay? That’s all there is left to do.“ Glanni’s hostility might have been more meaningful if it weren’t for what he was doing and how painstakingly so. Sometimes, Ithro began to wonder if some of the nasty things he said were habitual rather than intentional. The sudden, triumphant clap of Glanni’s hands burst into his thoughts, along with the sight of his brilliantly toothy smile.
“Would you take a look at this!” And it most definitely wasn’t a request, because Glanni all but shoved a handheld mirror into Ithro’s lap, eagerly peering over his shoulder to check his reaction. He, personally, believed he’d done superbly, however, he also wanted outside confirmation. “So?” Glanni asked impatiently, tracing his fingers up and down Ithro’s arms.
“You did great!” Was his chiming response, and Glanni couldn’t help but get excited over the enthusiasm in his voice. After all, it wasn’t every day he did something anybody approved of, or any day.
“Let me look at you again,” he insisted as he took back the mirror. Ithro obliged peacefully even though Glanni was unnecessarily close now for the sake of proper inspection.
He didn’t have much of a chance to take in his project as a whole whilst he had been working, choosing to focus on the details, the parts, the pieces. Now that Glanni was able to take Ithro’s face in its entirety, he understood just how well it had turned out.
“Fuck,” Glanni muttered, still keeping his eyes on Ithro. He said it again, though it was almost a whisper.
Ithro’s lashes were elongated through the power of strenuous mascara use, and the lids of his eyes glowed a gentle golden yellow, as Glanni had figured it would suit his usual, albeit hideous pallette. There was also a light dusting of blush on the apples of his cheeks as well as on the tip of his nose, accompanied by the shadowy appearance of a contoured jawline. And lastly, he had delicately applied a muted, but opaque shade of pink on his lips. It truly brought it all together, though it completely undid Glanni.
“Something off?” Ithro questioned, feeling a bit uncomfortable sitting in silence for as long as he had. Glanni seemed as if he was formulating an answer, yet the concentrated expression soon dissolved.
Without warning, Glanni had taken ahold of Ithro’s shoulders, an anchoring tool to steady himself as he furiously pushed their lips together. The desperate overtones of his impulsive actions were not lost, and Ithro acted accordingly, allowing Glanni to climb onto his lap and grasping onto his waist. It was warm, what they were doing, burning even, and both parties dearly hoped for it to mean something. It felt like it did, what with Glanni’s hot breath on the elf’s skin and how Ithro couldn’t take his hands off of him.
Glanni was the first to pull away, and he took in a sharp inhale after he did. So breathing was important after all? It just seemed so secondary.
“Your makeup,” he said, a leering grin creeping up on his features. “I ruined it.“
“Did you?” Ithro’s tone was weary, unfocused.
Glanni laughed at that, gesturing towards the paint smeared on his chin.
"Well, I don’t feel ruined,” he mused lightly. “Do it again?"
okay i’m going to go ahead and type up some of my thoughts here. It’s gonna be a little shorter than I thought originally, and also please keep in mind that i’m kinda dumb and i’m no meta writer or like.. a good theorist (unless we are playing the How Wrong Will Carol Be This Month game) so i’m not like… good at it. Here’s my snk 93 Ymir thoughts and some thoughts in general about the current state of things.